


they send me away (to find them a fortune)

by SafelyCapricious



Series: only the moon howls [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Magic, BAMF Sansa Stark, F/M, Sansa Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:22:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22312453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SafelyCapricious/pseuds/SafelyCapricious
Summary: Oberyn finds her in the garden, sitting by herself.Olenna and Margery both, he’s heard, have tried to corner her for interrogation that she’s neatly sidestepped every time. A wolf must, he supposes, be used to avoiding brambles.
Relationships: Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand, Oberyn Martell/Sansa Stark
Series: only the moon howls [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1606012
Comments: 51
Kudos: 466





	they send me away (to find them a fortune)

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of [the house was awake (the shadows and monsters)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20959445), and if you haven't read that this is going to start weirdly in the middle. So go read that first. I plan at least one more part for this series, but it might be more than that. I love it a lot. I really wanna do a section from Sansa's POV at some point. 
> 
> In any case, enjoy!

Oberyn finds her in the garden, sitting by herself. 

Olenna and Margery both, he’s heard, have tried to corner her for interrogation that she’s neatly sidestepped every time. A wolf must, he supposes, be used to avoiding brambles. 

“Lady Stark, no, please, don’t get up,” he says, bowing as much as he should and not an iota more. He’s rewarded with the ghost of amusement on her lips. “May I join you?” 

She glances up, and though her lashes shield her eyes he still feels it like a spear through the chest. “I cannot stop you,” she says, voice so soft he can barely hear, “but I advise against it.” 

He laughs and collapses into the bench at an angle to her own. “I think most would advise you against it, unless my reputation has dulled terribly.” 

She hums and goes back to looking down at her lap, face blank and serene. 

“Has it?” he asks, lasting longer than he expected with the silence. 

“My prince?” she asks, tilting her head slightly but not lifting her gaze. 

“Has my reputation dulled, you seem not at all afeared I shall attempt to take your virtue, my lady.” He’s careful to stay leaned back, arms stretched over the back of his own bench, not encroaching on her space at all. He’s also careful to keep his voice light and playful. 

He’s rewarded with a laugh, a surprisingly husky thing that he immediately wants to hear more of. “You are a snake charmer, my prince,” she says, “I am not a snake. And your reputation is that you would not take one not charmed, so I am confident in my safety with you.”

He throws his head back to laugh, delighted beyond what he expected, at her quick subtle wit. When he lowers his head she’s watching him, and he thinks he’s starting to recognize some of her tells -- he can see the phantom of a smile dancing there, and he wants to draw it out. “How do you recommend one tame a wolf then?” 

The smile he was expecting doesn’t come -- oh, her mouth curves upward and teeth are bared and there is amusement there, but there’s also enough threat that his heart jumps in his chest and his breath catches. “One doesn’t,” she says, simply, eyes fixed on him for a long moment where he cannot breathe, “Wolves do not like false flattery, but they do appreciate respect.” Her eyes drop and the air is sweet in his lungs with the smell of roses. 

“My Lady, anyone who does not respect you,” he says, voice slightly horse, “is a fool and deserves whatever happens to them.” 

She looks up again and meets his eyes, and this time there’s no threat just curiosity and he wants to hold his breath to preserve the moment but he can breathe and then the tittering of ladies from a nearby path seems to break the spell and her eyes fall and she melts inward and away and she’s just a young lady sitting on a bench again. 

***

It’s magic, he realizes later, and even as it terrifies, it entices. It has been generations since magic has flowed through Dorne and he’d thought it didn’t matter since no one else had it either but -- he wants it back, he wants it back for his people and his family desperately. 

And the Starks must be the key. 

He wonders if Robert Baratheon knew -- if that’s why he’d campaigned so ferociously for the young lady’s hand for his own son -- but no, he never would’ve given up the effort if he’d known, and the rumor is that he’d dropped it well before his death. 

So no one else must know, the blind fools, but knowing doesn’t mean anything if he can’t win the support of the Starks.

He sends one of his trusted men back to Dorne with a message for Doran, he can’t make this move without the support of his brother. 

***

Oberyn has attended more meals with the court than he’d initially expected, because it’s one of the few places he can be guaranteed the sight of the Lady Stark. Ellaria rarely comes with him, though she encourages his ventures, she simply hasn’t the stomach to deal with their king -- and he doesn't have the desire to have them in the same room himself. 

He doesn’t attend them all, however, needing to occasionally get food with actual flavor, and so he misses the dinner where the news of Jamie Lannister’s capture is shared. 

The descriptions of the event vary wildly, depending on who is doing the telling, with only three things remaining constant. One, that the proclaimed King in the North is willing to trade Jamie Lannister alongside a handful of others for the return of his sister, two, that the king refused, and three, that the Queen Regent did not take the refusal well. 

He attends the next week of meals, hoping for more, and is finally granted a reprieve just before his patience has ended on the seventh day. 

“They say that the northerners are riding their dog beasts into battle,” the king says, grease dripping down his chin, “I want one.” 

The queen reagent takes a long sip from her goblet, food untouched before her, and no one else responds until the king points his knife at where Lady Stark sits, halfway down the table. “Maybe I’ll trade you for one of them! One of those wolves would be more useful than my worthless uncle!” He laughs and Oberyn worries that the queen reagent is going to snap the stem of her goblet in her white knuckled grip, although it is made from metal. “What do you think, Sansa, you think your traitor brother would trade you for a bitch?” he laughs again and Oberyn watches as Lady Stark calmly blots at her mouth and tucks her hands away before speaking. 

“I cannot say what might be decided, my king, such things are beyond my purview.” The king makes a face at her. 

“You know I could ride one though, probably better than those northern savages.” 

Lady Stark’s lips curve into a smile, and she says as sweet as poison, “I am sure that any true Baratheon could ride anything, better than anyone else, my king.” 

“You bitch,” the queen reagent hisses through her teeth, while the king looks pleased at Lady Stark’s words. 

The rest of the table holds its collected breath. 

The queen reagent sets her goblet down heavily and asks, “Are you threatening the king?” 

Lady Stark blinks, and her mouth goes soft and still, smile gone and small wrinkle on her forehead speaking of confusion. “The king is a Baratheon,” she states, simply and then she tilts her head, curious, “and surely his blood runs strong with the magic -- as it must for all the great houses.”

The fool king puffs out his chest at her words, before pointing to the messenger, “send word to bring me back a Direwolf from the battlefield.” The messenger, pale, nods and goes. Oberyn anticipates news of death to follow the new order. 

*** 

“Is is true,” Ellaria asks, sitting far closer to Lady Stark than Oberyn dares, “that all of you were given a pet Direwolf pup when you were young?” 

Lady Stark -- or Sansa as she had given Ellaria liberty to call her, but not him and he’s trying not to be bitter -- shakes her head, lips twisted slightly. “They aren’t pets.” 

“But you were given one?” Ellaria pushes, and Oberyn isn’t sure if his lover is just braver than him or if she can’t see the sharp glint of Sansa’s teeth where they show through her parted lips. 

“Yes,” she affirms, mouth smoothing out and Oberyn is less concerned she’s going to bite Ellaria, “I grew up with Lady.” 

Ellaria laughs, and Sansa’s face softens. “You named your Direwolf ‘Lady’?” 

Sansa ducks her head slightly and twists her fingers together, “It is a good reminder of what I need to be,” and when she looks up through her lashes the glance freezes Ellaria but Oberyn, expecting it, finds himself leaning closer. It has been said that he’s attracted to danger. 

“Lady is well, yes?” he asks, drawing her gaze to himself, “The rumor is that she went home with your sister, not halfway through your journey to the capital.” 

“That is true,” she nods, gaze soft and hands still, “Arya will be watching after her, and probably letting her get away with terrible habits.” There’s sadness there now, not the ferociousness of earlier, and Oberyn finds himself reaching out to comfort despite his knowledge. 

“She will be excited to see you when you return to her,” he says, softly, laying a hand over hers. 

He feels her nails as her gaze pierces through his skin, and he wonders if he’s bleeding. Her grip releases and her head ducks but there’s a victorious curl to her lips and he knows she understood. 

“As will I,” she says. 

***

It’s not treason, technically. The King -- the ruling house -- must have magic to rule. That is in the charter and was one of the foundations that was made when the Targaryens came -- the one allowance that justified the deposition of the mad king. 

Joffrey Baratheon has no magic, and if rumor is to be believed isn’t even a Baratheon -- but he doesn’t have the magic of the Lannisters either, even if he should’ve received a double dose. And so, any actions taken against him while he sits the throne cannot be treason. 

That doesn’t mean they won’t be killed for the offense if they are caught. So they mustn’t be caught. 

Some have taken notice of Oberyn’s pointed attention to Lady Stark, but given his reputation the conclusions they draw are far from the truth. Or, perhaps more precisely, aren’t the entire truth.

Doran has accepted the risk, although it’s minimal given the position of Dorne and the independence they’ve always enjoyed. Oberyn expects cooler heads to prevail in any case, once one particular hot head is taken out of the decision. 

He and Ellaria hover over her, during the wedding, offering her tidbits of this or of that from their own hands. She mostly ignores them, acting the cool statue amongst their flutterings, although he sees her impatience in the shadow of her lashes and the tap of her fingers. 

She moves quickly when they urge, lips curled in pleasure as the king who once ordered her whipped like a dog chokes on air. 

By the time the bells are tolling they are headed towards White Harbor and, Oberyn hopes, magic. 

**Author's Note:**

> So, I made the decision to make this a series since the first was part of fictober and I am loath to mark any of my fictober fics incomplete due to, well, who I am as a person I suppose. So this is the first one that's gotten turned into a series...but it probably won't be the last. ~~fingers crossed~~ have almost completed the next chapter but I'm trying to get it just perfect. That being said, this is still more pre-ship for them, but it'll get there -- and probably Sansa/Ellaria will be added here shortly as well...
> 
> If you have questions you can always find me [on tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/capriciouswrites), I probably won't forget to respond to your messages for like a week ~~SORRY I'M THE WORST~~
> 
> Not edited enough, let me know if anything looks wonky!
> 
> Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought! I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
